


Cherub and Rose

by eiluned



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 16:52:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha navigates the intricacies of gift giving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherub and Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Confession: I started writing a Christmas gift exchange fic, but didn’t finish it before Christmas actually got here. So… yeah. Maybe one day I’ll finish that one? But that’s where the Mr Coffee reference comes from. Hi, I write fics with references to fics I haven’t finished yet.
> 
> Also I wrote this back in February but just now realized that I only posted it to tumblr. So here it is on AO3 for posterity.

Valentine’s Day, much like Christmas, was mystifying to Natasha. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out why the anniversary of a massacre had been turned into a whole big thing with gift giving and balloons and nauseating displays of hearts and cherubs and all that crap.

But she found a stuffed cherub at the store. It had blond hair and a purple bow and arrow, and she laughed herself silly at the thought of Clint’s face if he were to find it on his desk.

So she bought it and made sure she got to their broom closet of an office before he did so she could set up the horrible little thing right in front of the Mr Coffee from Christmas, which had migrated from his apartment to their office a few weeks ago. Then she waited.

And waited. And waited.

At half past ten, she gave up. Some paperwork was due half an hour ago, so she left with a sigh to go deliver expense reports to Roz, Battle Maiden of Accounting (Clint gave her the nickname, of course).

Clint still wasn’t in the office when she got back at eleven, but the little cherub was missing from its coffeemaker perch.

"Damn it," she muttered, tossing her jacket over the back of her chair.

On her desk was a single pink rose.

It was the coffee maker for Christmas all over again. She got him something stupid, and he got her… something. Something that made her throat feel weirdly tight, made heat flood her cheeks, made her feel strange deep in the pit of her stomach.

She ran her fingertips over the velvety petals for a moment, picking it up to breathe in its sweet scent, before tucking it into her desk drawer.


End file.
